Fighting Fate
by Adobo-chan
Summary: COMPLETE. AU. The legend goes that a red string connects a person to their soul mate. So when Karin wakes up one day and can see her own, she finds a man named Hitsugaya Toushirou on the other end. Neither of them is too thrilled. HitsuKarin; some IchiRuki.
1. Divided

**AN**: Totally should be studying and working on _Go Against the Grain_ and _The Plan_... but I'm not. :) This story has been bothering me for a week so to finally get myself out of this little rut I wrote it so it'd go away. I hope you guys enjoy it~

**Inspired by _Akai Michi_ (_Red Road_)**, a shoujo manga that I read ages ago and loved. It's a one-shot that is rather serious but romantic and with a slight twist at the end. Because I stumbled upon it again, I decided to redo the story for HitsuKarin but with my own flare to it (one day, I will definitely write something other than this pairing, I swear... -_-;;). Enjoy!

_Summary_: [TWO-SHOT] The legend goes that a red string connects a person to their soul mate. So when Karin wakes up one day and can see her own, she finds a man named Hitsugaya Toushirou on the other end. Neither of them is too thrilled. HitsuKarin; some IchiRuki.

* * *

_Divided_

When she wakes up that morning, Kurosaki Karin doesn't feel any different. And she shouldn't, not really at least. After all, it's the same body she had yesterday: four limbs, a torso and a head that she thinks is a tad too big for her thin frame. Her hair is still jet black, her eyes dark gray and with features that look like a cross between her sister's overt prettiness and her brother's angled lines.

But today's not at all like the others. She finds that today is a day for destiny.

As she combs her fingers through her tangled locks, she stifles a yawn behind her hand, stretching lazily as she does so. It's only two months into school but she feels as if her junior year has been going on for centuries. However, that thought is interrupted when her arm falls to the side, her attention caught by the slightest glint of crimson.

There, on her smallest finger of her left hand, is a knotted bow. Reaching out to feel for it, she notes that it's thin but durable, crafted by someone—or something—who is well versed in the art of reducing strength to such a tiny piece as this. But even though she can see it, feel it between her fingers as she tugs to see if there's something on the other end, Karin has no idea what it means.

Perhaps it's her family playing a trick on her, she thinks logically, nodding when satisfied with the idea. Even now, her home situation wasn't what one would likely call typical, especially with an overly involved and hyperactive father and a spirited twin sister who sometimes felt more like the disciplinary in their house.

In fact, the only other sane member of their household was off to college, a university in Tokyo where he received a full-ride on a soccer scholarship. (Karin knows that she's pretty much modeled herself after Ichi-nii, but with him being the closest thing to normal in their house, who can really blame her?) And, on a separate but parallel plane, there was Kurosaki Masaki, their mother who had been stolen away ten years ago in a hit-and-run. But even though the traffic accident has long since been settled, Karin acknowledges that they're all still a bit broken, feeling out for that unconditional love only she could give and grieving not for once-was but what-will-never-be.

Shaking away the unusually morbid thought, she's dressed and ready for school twenty minutes later, hair falling down her shoulders as she greets Goat Chin and Yuzu in that usual monotone of hers. Waiting for them to say something about the little prank, she gets halfway through breakfast before her patience wears thin. So she does what she always does in these kinds of circumstances. She opens her mouth and just speaks.

"So, whose idea was this?" Karin asks, holding up her hand to show off the pretty but useless string. Both of them eye her hand, squint in inspection and tilt their heads to the side, all perfectly on cue. The muscle beneath her eyebrow twitches conspicuously at the synchronism.

"What do you mean? Is there something wrong with your hand?" Yuzu replies in turn. The confusion on her face isn't dramatized like it usually is when she's lying nor is she grinning in a secretive way that overtakes her intended poker face. Either she's telling the truth or Yuzu has become a grade-A actress overnight. Karin is very sure it's not the latter.

Their father doesn't say anything, only stares a little at her hand as if trying to comprehend something. But then he's shrugging his shoulders and going back to his meal, acting like Karin had never asked a thing in the first place. To say she's surprised is a bit of an understatement but there's little else she can do or say without sounding psychotic. As she tangles her fingers in the thread, Karin keeps her mouth shut as she finishes her food and goes to school.

* * *

It's only one month until summer vacation so Karin uses her spare time to find out about the phenomenon that was currently looped around her pinky. When she asks a few of her guy friends about it, they shrug uninterestedly, saying it sounded like something from a shoujo manga or J-pop idol song. And when she asks a few of her girl classmates, they titter about how romantic the notion is, everlasting love and a number of other things Karin is more than a little confused about (and finds them only mildly related to what she wants to know).

So a week later, she's in the library searching for the origins of her sanguine friend, still ever present and now almost normal to her. After finding a dusty, old book on Asian folklore, her eyes scan the table of contents as she spies the title 'Red String of Destiny.' Flipping to page 173, her eyes take in the chapter's black and white cover of two hands connected by twirls and whirls of a single line.

It reads:

_With similar tales found throughout Asia, the red string of destiny has come to symbolize an unending bond created by God's (or gods', if one prefers) will. This bond is brought into physical form by a red string tying two people together, usually along one's hand, indicating that the two are inseparable beings who were meant to meet and never part._

_The thread itself is unseen by the naked eye and one string never has more than two wearers. While it may be stretched and tangled and is considered limitless in length, the crimson tie can never be broken or torn apart by physical strength, time or space. Most commonly it has come to symbolize everlasting love—and is oftentimes equated to the western hemisphere's idea of 'soul mates'—but the meaning has also been used ambiguously to include both ardent enemies and enduring friendships._

As she finishes the short passage, Karin can't help but wonder about the kind of person she's waiting for.

* * *

It's summer break when her brother comes home, all gruff hellos and few unnecessary words. But it's not what he says that matters but the fact that he's there. Because regardless if he notices, everyone in the Kurosaki house is in a better mood when Ichigo is around, with Yuzu humming while she's cooking a late lunch, their father somewhat behaving (albeit, reluctantly so) while Karin looks more peaceful than usual. During the meal, Yuzu asks what Ichigo intends to do today and if he'll be back for dinner that night, her adoring eyes solely on her big brother.

"Some of my friends are staying with Chad and Inoue so a lot of us are here in Karakura. We'll probably show them around, I guess," he replies with a shrug, not meeting her gaze as he grabs another piece of meat.

"Oh… Will we get to meet them?" Yuzu replies excitedly, eyes lighting up at the idea of meeting his college friends for the first time after all these years. He just shrugs again, which has her puffing out one cheek as she pouts, annoyed at him. When he looks up, Ichigo's stare trails to Karin for a second before falling to her hand with bemusement.

"What is that?" He gestures rudely with his chopsticks.

"Huh?" is her unintelligible reply, mouth full of rice as she raises her brows.

"That thing on your finger," Ichigo pushes further, glaring at it with full strength. Something in the back of Karin's mind clicks, as she watches him inspect the yarn-like fiber.

"You've seen one before." It's not a question, nor does she expect an answer, but the way his light brown eyes flash tell her more than she expected. Not only has he seen one, Karin is sure Ichi-nii won't divulge a thing about that bit of information, intent on keeping it his secret for the time being. Inwardly, her instincts don't take kindly to being kept in the dark.

"What're you talking about, Onii-chan?" Yuzu breaks in, scanning her twin in a matter of seconds but finding nothing amiss. She's wearing her normal T-shirt and jean shorts, something comfortable just in case she has to step out but good enough to lounge around the house in.

"It's nothing, Yuzu. Karin's just looking a little different." Ichigo side steps her inquiry as he pushes his chair out, saying that he's due to meet his friends soon. As he's shuffling over to leave, the youngest yelling about him not giving her a good answer, Karin follows his form with a glance before feeling another set of eyes on her.

Out of the corner of her gaze, she sees Kurosaki Isshin trail his eyes over the exact same place Ichigo's did a moment ago, his mouth tightening a little as he settles on her littlest finger. The look makes her self-conscious, as she crushes her hand into a fist and hides it in her lap, frowning up at him as if to say that he should mind his own business.

Subdued but understanding, the family patriarch shoots her a bright smile but with none of the flowery or excited words that usually come out of him. And even though she all but demands that he ignore what he's finally chosen see, Karin sort of wishes he'd break his silence and tell her what he knows. But Karin understands that he won't say a thing no matter how much she wants him to, so she doesn't ask him to. Because even she acknowledges that she's not quite ready to hear what he has to say about the wine-colored line that holds far too many secrets.

* * *

When Ichigo returns after dinner, Yuzu's doing dishes and Karin is cleaning the living room as she watches a soccer match (a habit that she hasn't outgrown and somehow doubts she ever will). In tow, there's a fairly large group of people, a few she recognizes as his high school pals—specifically Ishida, Inoue and Chad—as well as a group of new ones.

Surprisingly, Karin finds that Ichigo is rather apt at making friends, as she takes in a smaller-than-small girl with hair as dark as night, a redhead with locks even longer than hers, a pretty boy who was more than a little feminine, a rowdy man that hates being called bald and a beautiful busty blonde who looks distinctly older than the rest. Examining each of them with a critical eye, Karin says hello politely but little else, before moving into the kitchen to throw away whatever she's swept up. As she does, the newcomers take residence on the couch and extra seats but don't change the channel, the boys' attention caught by the second quarter final.

Although she's invited to sit and watch, Karin declines and says she can see fine from the kitchen, which is a lie but she doesn't want to intrude. She's never been the social butterfly her sister is nor does she inspire the kind of loyalty her brother seems to. She doesn't mind sitting and listening to their cheers and foul calls, grinning a little as she sips a cup of tea Yuzu was kind enough to leave her. It's strange how their usually quiet house comes to life whenever Ichigo comes back, as if he's the epicenter of their home. But she wouldn't trade one moment of it for any kind of clarity, Karin thinks honestly, as she walks over to the stove to pour herself another glass. But then Ichi-nii's voice breaks her out of her quiet mindset and her balance in completely overthrown.

"Oi, Toushirou, what took you so long? Get lost?"

"No, and it's Hitsugaya to you, Kurosaki."

Nearly dropping the hot pot when her left hand loses control for a moment, Karin has to will herself from snapping her head in the direction of the living room. Taking a soothing breath, she steadies herself while she places both her cup and the kettle on the counter, noticing first the tightening and then loosening of the strand wrapped around her. This is the first time it has ever felt so tangible, thick and heavy in a way that makes her want to pull at it like she did the first day it appeared on her left hand.

Instead Karin takes it slow and tries to play it cool, letting her stare follow the red tether as it fell gracefully to the floor, winding and spinning a few times with a knot or two in the middle, before she finds the missing end. It's wrapped around the masculine hand of this so-called Hitsugaya, who's arguing one-sidedly with her older brother.

With his back to her, Karin can make out wide-set shoulders, height that sits above average but not quite what one would call tall, hair the color of freshly fallen snow and a scarlet loop around his smallest digit, identical to hers. On the outside she does her best to look calm, bored even, but inside she's nothing if not confused and maybe a little anxious.

"Karin-chan, are you feeling okay?" Orihime's voice breaks her out of her reverie, eyes snapping to the orange-haired girl. Hearing the question, everyone turns to her, a mix of concern and curiosity on their faces.

But what really gets her are those eyes, a green that painters try to imitate and a hue that even emeralds are jealous of. There's a hard certainty in them, wary as if he's experienced much more than he lets on, and somehow Karin is impressed by their strength. There's just something about him that makes her think of a tundra that refuses to melt even under the strongest of fires, fearless against the world, but would easily fall apart for a selectively chosen few. However, while Karin can admit that the admiration for him is there, perhaps even a little attraction if she gives herself that much leeway, there's nothing but a blank canvas before them, one she's not sure will ever be filled.

As she meets his stare after an introspective second, Karin notices how Toushirou's eyes don't go to their connection, the one that screams out to her as it tangles itself along the wooden floor. In that moment, she wonders if she can be the kind of girl that sits idly to see where this whole journey takes her. Because, while fate may speak for them implicitly, Karin's never been the type to go along with whatever the universe said so.

Or, at least, not without a challenge of her own.

* * *

Looking up from her magazine, Karin is only mildly surprised to see Hitsugaya entering the living room, coming downstairs after their group situates themselves in Ichi-nii's room (though how they all fit is a mystery she's not certain she wants to understand). As she reclines on the couch, one eye watches him from over the edge of the paper, keeping a straight face all the same. During the last few days, she's realized a few things about the thread between them and a part of her wonders if he can tell too.

For one thing, it does just as it says in the book; it lengthens and shortens whenever it needs to, it may get kinked throughout the day but it never, ever falls off no matter how much force is applied to it. But, Karin also learns that it's quite sensitive to distance, going very slack once they're within range of each other and solidifying in response. But whenever they're too distant, the knot around her finger feels almost nonexistent while the tension grows tight, as if it'll snap any moment. The observations have become some kind of game for her, but she's not quite sure what sort of end she's playing for.

Once he spots her, Toushirou speaks first in a no-nonsense manner. "I have a girlfriend."

A pause. "Congratulations." She looks back down at her reading and makes a mental note that he's only been pretending to not see their link, though she supposes she understands why now. Dating someone who wasn't your 'soul mate'? Probably doesn't bode well for whatever future they're planning.

When he doesn't leave the room or say anything further, Karin merely turns the page of her reading, refusing to look up at him as she ponders whether or not she should get a new pair of soccer cleats. "What, do you want a prize or something?"

"I want you to know that this… _thing_ doesn't matter to me," he replies, voice tight between being put off by a newly turned seventeen-year-old and holding in his indignation over the shared piece of destiny tying them together.

Nodding absentmindedly, she shrugs one shoulder nonchalantly. "That's fine. It's your prerogative, right?" Karin says in return, as she meets his haughty gaze with a quiet but understanding one. Sometimes divine providence was a wonderfully quixotic thing, and other times it was a merely a man's cruel mistress.

When people met their destined match in movies, it seemed that the world did its best to make sure the two ended up together, as if written in the stars or approved by Cupid himself. But for Karin and Toushirou, it feels as if they've stumbled upon each other and now they have no choice but to stay that way. No room for courtship or heartrending trials, it was almost like the forces-that-be were too lazy to help them build something more than this farce of a beginning, and neither of them wanted to try and work out a relationship that had already been forsaken by higher powers.

"You're… _not_ gonna try and force this?" he asks quietly, a slight tinge of confusion mixed with audible relief in his tone.

"Why would I chase a guy who doesn't want me? Do I look like a masochist?" she snorts, unladylike and stubborn, very much defining a girl who was disobedient to a fault. While she's grateful that she's finally met her enigmatic partner, Karin isn't going to rush what-is into what's-supposedly-meant-to-be.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Hitsugaya concedes, looking more relaxed at her answer but no less on guard or unsure. It's because he doesn't trust her and she doesn't blame him one bit. After all, this guy doesn't know her and, likewise, Karin doesn't feel much more for him other than plain amusement at his discomfort, but even that's a fleeting sort of glee that won't amount to much in a few minutes. Destiny or not, Karin has always found that people put too much stock in something as trivial as love and divine intervention, two things that they both are intended to share but want nothing to do with.

In the back of her mind, Karin can't help but wonder if the two of them have got it all wrong. Maybe they're meant to be great friends or worst enemies and not the star-crossed lovers who get a chance at a happy but realistic ending. Because there's nothing keeping them here except this intangible union, one that neither wants to accept as the one and only truth. And she's sure that if they were both honest with each other, they would say none of this makes sense in the slightest because it goes against any sort of cognitive appraisal, common sense included. But all Karin knows is that she wants to be happy someday, and believing in something as nonsensical as the supernatural didn't seem like the right way to achieve that wayward goal.

* * *

Contrary to (her) popular belief, Fate is alive and kicking.

It has to be or Karin is just really bad at finding places that aren't already occupied by Hitsugaya Toushirou. With him (and the rest of Ichigo's friends) staying in Karakura until the end of the month, it should've been easy to avoid him. The large downtown area is both big and busy enough to keep a few out-of-towners occupied but the burrows of the city were better known to its natives. If she chose those spots, Karin was sure that they wouldn't cross paths, even if they were within thirty feet of each other.

But she overlooks one important fact: her brother knows this city like the back of his hand. So wherever her usual hang outs are she's fairly certain to run into the large group as well, doing her best to keep her head down and sneak out the front door before anyone notices or exit before anyone's realized that she was going to enter. Most of the time it works, since Karin is on the defensive and exactly on point in her maneuvering. She's become rather good at wiggling her way past them in small shops or into the safety of the crowds when she spots them on the street. However, her sneaking isn't perfect, not by a long shot, because there is always a pair of eyes on her as she makes her getaway, the dark jade hue chasing her until she's out of sight.

Karin wants to tell him she really isn't trying to find him, and she knows for a fact that Hitsugaya's only being dragged around on everyone else's whims. There are no expectations between them to fill the preordained contract and yet the feeling gnawing inside her stomach has worry shifting through her veins. She's learned that it's one thing to deny and pretend something doesn't exist, but it's another thing entirely when one actively tries to tempt Fate as she has so blatantly been doing. So when Hitsugaya seeks her out again, she's not surprised that he finds her on a grassy field in the park, her special thinking place that she's shared with no one… until now, that is.

"Hey." Looking up, Karin sees Toushirou with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, looking somewhat uncomfortable about intruding.

"Hey," she answers back, giving him a soft look before moving to the side a bit to let him take a seat. It's an absurd thing to do since they have the entire expanse of grass to themselves but lately it feels like no matter how far they are, they are still so ridiculously close. They've quickly come to terms with the fact that all of this insanity is completely out of their hands and somehow Karin's never felt so powerless before.

"You've been avoiding us." _Me_ is what he means to say but doesn't because it's much too personal and they're anything but friends, much less lovers.

"Not particularly," she lies easily, but the way his eyes darken tell her that he's not stupid enough to believe her. The glare almost makes her smile. "Look, things are weird as is. I just don't wanna make it worse."

"Then you're being counterproductive, in case you haven't noticed," he sighs, leaning back on his haunches to look up at the reddening sky. Him and his friends have been in Karakura Town for two weeks, but somehow it feels a lifetime for the both of them and it's all because of their equal avoidance of each other and the unspoken taboo tied to their hands.

A heartfelt sigh is let out, hitting the humid air. "Believe me, I know. But it's either that or hang out with you guys and honestly I really don't wanna do the second."

"Just… _be normal_." It's easy to say the words, but what exactly is normal when it comes to them? Their future literally and figuratively hangs in their hands. Even now, this affinity for the other is too strong for them to break out of and it shows; because no matter how far apart they are, no matter how much distance they purposely try to keep between them, Toushirou and Karin can't help but find each other at the end of the day.

Turning her head away so she doesn't have to look at him, Karin frowns deeply. "Yeah? Define 'normal' for me again 'cause I'm pretty sure we're past the point of no return," she grunts unsympathetically, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

"If I knew, I'd tell you but right now, there are no clear answers. Whatever this is, is so much bigger than us," Toushirou explains dully, feeling just as helpless as the teenager beside him. In his lifetime, he's never battled anything more than a few school bullies, and even that had been when he was a child. However, defying otherworldly guardians seemed like a task better fit for a movie or drama, not human reality and certainly not his own life.

As they sit there a little longer, neither offers a word of comfort or much-needed wisdom, too used to holding in their emotions rather than letting them loose. They've still got a long way to go if they ever plan to overcome this hurdle and neither is sure that they even want to, would much rather run in opposite directions than face this problem head-on. But life has a funny way of turning things around, as their strand of fate sits happily between them, glittering red as it lays in the grass, looking more complete than it ever has before.

* * *

**AN**: Alright, done! _Now, if anyone wants that second part in a timely manner, please drop me a line and say so._ I kinda need the encouragement because I only have two weeks until real classes start so I'm incredibly lazy to do anything at the moment. Haha. I will update my other works as soon as I can, but this will probably be finished before I get to the other two.

Thanks for reading, everyone! :)


	2. Connected

**AN**: Firstly, I want to apologize for not doing this in a timely manner, as I said I would before. With school just starting and a huge wall called writer's block bugging me, the ending was pretty much in the air for the longest time. In fact, it only hit me today what I wanted to do with these two but more on that at the end.

Thank you all so much for the reviews. I'm really happy that anyone can take a few minutes to write one and/or favorite and/or alert. It's a compliment, a huge one, and since I couldn't reply to everyone, here's my thank-you list for the first part!

**Mel**: Thank you! It's nice to meet a new reviewer and I hope you enjoyed my other stories too. ^^

**Black Rose**: I love to play with used themes and see what I can do with them. The red string of fate is very popular in Asia and I've loved the idea since watching _Tenchi Muyo_ as a kid actually. Haha. Thank you so much for your consistency and I'll do my best. I'm in the middle of all my orientations now and it's kinda making my head spin. Haha.

**elarhy**: I agree, it's a legend that's pretty popular in anime and manga and I find that it's one of the most interesting. I feel like Karin and Toushirou aren't the types to get too excited about things like this, but that doesn't mean they're unaffected. That's what I tried to capture and I'm glad you could see it too. :)

**Mary-goround**: Here you go! I hope you like it. I don't wanna disappoint~

**AnneRose**: Thank you! I get my best ideas from old ones. Haha. It's super sweet, right? Makes me a little jealous that characters can fall in love so perfectly.

**Deathrim**: I hope you like the ending. I don't know if it's what everyone wants but I wrote in a way that I think is pretty satisfying.

**nureen**: Thanks~ I tried hard to make this a good ending (which probably explains why it's so long...). Enjoy!

**Anon**: Thank you. ^^ I do my best to not write the same idea twice... or, at least, too many times. Haha.

To be honest, this was kind of crazy to write. I tried so hard to pull all the loose ends together but of course that's impossible. (It's like trying to make the perfect ponytail. After a while, it's just a fail. Only a girl problem. LOL) I had maybe four or five endings that I was trying to piece together but they didn't fit the feel of the story and I wouldn't give you guys a bad ending intentionally. So just know that I tried really hard to keep the story in the same vein as it started, even if it's not completely successful. :)

Enjoy~

_Warnings_: I used the Japanese trimester system so each semester begins in April, September and January (I think). Also, I used the Japanese levelling of grades. There's six years of elementary, three in middle school and three in high school. The high school bit pops up briefly and I didn't want anyone to get confused. LOL

* * *

"So, Toushirou told you, huh?"

"Yep." Sitting in the backyard and on their lazy day hammock, Karin sees Ichigo coming to lie down by one of the trees holding her swing up, the shade complemented by the light breeze. It's hot and it's summer but it's a bearable sort of heat for once so she chooses to enjoy it in peace. However, it seems that her older brother didn't even want to give her that much.

"How're you holdin' up?" he inquires as he picks at the grass, shuffling the stems between his fingers.

Frowning, she doesn't comprehend his question. "What'dya mean? I'm good, Ichi-nii. It's not like my heart's broken, nor has anything changed. I've got a soul mate now. Weird but not terrible."

At her words, he perks up, peering over at her with soft ambivalence. "Is that so?" Turning away, he mumbles under his breath. "It's not supposed to be like this though…"

"Be like what?" she can't help but ask, as she stares pointedly at him, her face screwing up in confusion.

"It's not supposed to be something you just get over." He runs a hand through his hair, looking strangely tired and worried. "Karin, that red string is much more than some old legend or trick of the mind. It's meant to lead you to the person who will mean more to you than anyone else in the world."

"Yeah. So?" She still doesn't think it's a big deal. Most people get through their lives without some sort of ethereal intervention and they turn out happy enough. Even if she can't be blissfully married to Toushirou, she's sure someone else will have her, whoever he is. Sure, she might not be her happiest but she doubts that settling down with a man who cares about her is worse than marrying a man who doesn't want her at all.

Sighing, Ichigo can only shake his head, as he leans against the tree behind him. They lapse into silence then, the sound of the birds and the echoes of kids playing in their neighborhood their only company. She doesn't think he'll speak again, so she closes her eyes and allows herself to drift closer to sleep and hopefully into dreamland. He doesn't let her get too comfortable.

"I went through this too, y'know."

"Wait, what?" She sits up so fast that she nearly overturns her netted hammock, which starts swinging dangerously at the disequilibrium. Steadying herself, Karin turns to her brother with expectant eyes.

"Yeah, my freshman year of college," he begins, recounting the memories with the smallest of smiles on his face. It's both odd and comforting to see it there; the last real smile she had seen on him had been the day their mother had died, the three of them saying goodbye at the door when she went to the market that afternoon. Ironically, that had also been their mother's last smile, a contented one that no one has been able to imitate.

"I woke up with some string wrapped around my finger and thought it was the weirdest shit ever. I pulled at it, tried to rip it with my teeth and cut it with some scissors. I was so confused but I didn't really have the time to figure out what it was and what it was for. So, when I asked Ishida and a few others about it, they explained that it was some crap born from fairy tales. I couldn't help but wonder why I was the one living the messed up story though."

He stops to chuckle for a moment, running a hand through his hair at his naiveté. It makes him look years younger, less brooding and more honest. Deep down, Karin wonders how much he's changed since he left three years ago because her brother would've never made such an expression while he was in high school and never in front of her.

"But then I met the girl on the opposite end, some chick one year older than me, and I couldn't believe it. My first thought was, 'This can't be her, no freakin' way...' Because she was everything that mom wasn't and that was the kind of girl I thought I'd marry. Someone kind and honest, gentle in everything she did, who preferred talking it out over fist fights.

"But this girl, she was a ball of fire. She cursed like a guy, fought dirty and liked to knock me down a peg or two whenever she saw the chance." He laughs again here and a part of Karin feels a little envious. Who would've known her strong and protective brother would've been so easily undone by a single woman? It's almost impossible to fathom, but the way his eyes sparkle and the distance in his gaze makes her think that she must be much more like their mother than he realized. He'd never fall for anyone less.

"But she was special from the start, and it was something that a measly string didn't need to tell me. Oh sure, it popped up at a convenient time but I didn't need it. I'm dense and we all know it—" Karin grunts unkindly at the understatement and Ichigo glares in return, "—_but_ I would've figured this one out. And when I realized just how much I loved her, the string disappeared and I found myself falling for her again, but this time of my own free will.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that that thread isn't there to make you do anything. Its purpose is to help you see that this is your chance and you need to take it."

Afterwards, the silence bleeds into the atmosphere, calming but no less revolutionary. Because Karin's eyes have been opened to the possibilities and now they're staring her in the face, but with brand new implications attached to them. As she thinks hard on his words, it doesn't take Karin long to figure out who the girl Ichi-nii is talking about. In fact, it's so obvious she's surprised it's taken her this long.

Kuchiki Rukia, the adopted daughter of the esteemed Kuchiki family, was poised at first glance and violent, justice-seeking and just short of crazy on a second, third and fourth. After the last few weeks of watching those two together, Karin can't turn a blind eye to the fact that Ichigo's heart had been stolen, wholly and completely, and in the strangest way. Because there's no soft words or kind gestures between them; instead, they're more like a dog and monkey going for each other's throats, merciless but so sincerely candid that it's hard to see where the public theatrics end and the real passion begins.

"Oi, Ichigo, you out here?" _Speak of the devil_, Karin thinks with a small smile.

"Yeah," he replies, his voice noticeably softer as they watch her come out from the doorway. Dressed in a blue sundress, the Kuchiki eyes her boyfriend and his sister with cautious eyes.

"Why do you look so happy? Are you high?" Rukia inquires frankly, crossing her arms over her meager chest as she gave him a non-impressed look. Just barely choking down a snort, the Kurosaki middle child has to bite her tongue to stop the loud laugh that nearly falls from her lips. Ichigo, on the other hand, is not nearly so composed.

"What the hell, Rukia? I can't just be happy?" he yells, standing up and stomping to tower over their petite guest. It's strange how she can stand more than a foot shorter than him and still be mildly intimidating, the Kuchiki quirking a brow up in an indifferent manner. This girl was frighteningly good.

With a quick roll of her eyes, Rukia tosses her blunt hair with a shake of her head. "Your happiness usually comes at a price. I can't imagine what would make you look like that of your own free will other than an illegal substance." Wanting to interrupt and say that Rukia herself was Ichigo's drug of choice, Karin stops the words, knowing she'd probably never see the light of day after her brother was through with her. But it was very tempting, she murmurs inwardly, watching the scene unravel as she reclined in her swing.

Looking embarrassed, the orange-haired boy doesn't say a thing about what they were talking about, his masculine pride getting in the way of his adoration for Rukia. Perhaps if she hadn't come busting in guns ablaze, Ichigo would be more inclined to tell her about his heart-to-heart with Karin concerning his raven-haired soul mate. However, that's asking too much of both of them, as they fall into that comfortable pattern of bickering.

Managing to land swift kick to his gut, even Karin has to cringe when her insanely powerful brother falls to his knees, trying to suck in a breath. As Rukia gazes down triumphantly with a cackle, Ichigo is glaring harshly while reaching up for her waist, tossing her over his shoulder. With wide, unabashedly interested eyes, Karin can only think that Ichigo's gotten the hang of their odd relationship if he's managed to subdue the little spitfire with nothing else but a small smirk, as she's yelling swear words into the air and pounding his back in protest.

As she watches them disappear into the house, Karin sees how they're not a storybook romance nor are they conventional in the slightest ways, and yet they're meant for each other. And it's relieving to hear her brother say that it was _his_ decision to pick Rukia, not some order he had to follow. Something about those words give her confidence that one day she too would be allowed to love of her own freewill, greater powers be damned. But, as she settles her body into a ball, Karin wonders if maybe it's not fate she's fighting but herself.

* * *

When Kurosaki Isshin asks to have a drink with him, Hitsugaya can't find a reason to say no. How the invitation comes about is a mystery and the surprise makes him falter so he can't decline, not in good conscience at least and certainly not if he wants to maintain good manners. So he nods and proceeds to follow the older man when he tells him of a place not too far, visibly puzzled and somewhat unwilling. They end up at a small corner shop not too far from the Kurosaki clinic, a family-owned restaurant that doubles as a bar for regular patrons.

Obviously Isshin must be one because they seat him at a table in the back; the man behind the counter greets him familiarly and sends a flask of sake their way. It's after dinner but not quite peak hours so the restaurant is fairly quiet, a few other veterans present but other than that void of other customers. Taking in the quaint, off-white walls and wooden tables and seats, Hitsugaya gets the feeling that this place is well established in this nook of the neighborhood, just as he graciously accepts the cup offered to him.

He also finds that Karin is much like her father in some ways.

"So I see you're the one on the other end of my daughter's love line," the doctor says neutrally, taking a calm sip while Toushirou sputters on his. Unfortunately, there is no dignified way to choke and cough but he tries his hardest, pounding his chest a bit before clearing his throat to regain his composure. He's not sure if he's succeeded.

"Excuse me, Kurosaki-san?"

"Just Isshin is fine. I'm not a big fan of titles and such," he replies simply as he pours himself another glass. Hitsugaya isn't surprised. Ichigo takes after his overenthusiastic father in this aspect, refusing to call anyone by their last name or with a suffix unless they were older and respected, but sometimes not even barring that.

"Isshin-san," the younger man continues, coming up with a compromise that he thinks will suit them both, "I'm not sure what you mean—"

"Toushirou, my boy, you don't think you can hide that red string from an old pro like me, can you?" The middle-aged man grins at the other's shocked face, his eyes wide as they shift to the usually unseen thread. "I've gotten rusty in my old age but I recognized that thing the minute my daughter woke up to it a few months ago. I was pretty amazed myself, but the ability runs in my blood and I had thought Masaki's thinned the chances of our kids seeing them too. Seems like Yuzu's the only one who can't."

"Wait a second," Toushirou halts him, holding up an unsteady arm as he tried to come to grips with what the good doctor was saying. "You're telling me that your family can _see_ these things?"

"Yeah, pretty much the same as you, if I'm guessing your abilities right," Isshin nods, reclining in his chair as he adorns a thoughtful look. But then seriousness starts to settle into the lines of his face, as he gives the boy a stare rarely seen on the patriarch. A part of it unsettles Hitsugaya but he pretends that it doesn't. "But I'm not here to talk about my family so much as I'm here to ask you about Karin."

He stiffens, back iron-straight as he turns his gaze away. "What about her?"

"I know you two are stuck with each other and I know it's something neither of you wants." Here, Isshin shrugs nonchalantly, as if the entire ordeal isn't out of the ordinary. But to someone as meticulous and calculating as Toushirou, this entire twist was just that. "And I know Karin hasn't exactly been easy on you either. I apologize for that, by the way, she really can't help it. She's hard-headed and hates taking orders, but she's got a heart of gold, just like her mother."

"As wonderful as she might be, I don't feel like I'm the right one for her, Isshin-san." It's harder to say the words than Toushirou cares to admit, getting stuck in his throat like peanut butter he's chosen to swallow whole. A part of it tastes sour on his tongue as well, as if his body wanted to reject the idea entirely, and he's annoyed that it hits so dangerously close to home.

Undeterred, the physician smiles at him, but this time it's not one of his joyful or comforting grins. Instead, Toushirou finds that the only way to describe it accurately is… _sad_. He hates that out of all the words he's taken into his vocabulary, of all the terms he's learned and languages he's studied, that's the only one that comes even close.

He can see the old man's anguish, the pain of losing someone he loved too soon. There's no doubt in his mind that Isshin is much like him, finding his other half on the basis of some deity's intervention rather than letting him run his own course. But instead of hiding from what the greater powers wanted, he had given himself over freely, and Hitsugaya can tell that the older man has never looked back. Because even though their love story is a tragedy, there are no apologies that he'd ever loved his wife, not even the smallest shred that might've justified refusing to find her all those years ago.

"You know," the dark-haired man speaks after a while, tilting his head up with a small, reminiscent smile, "it's been about ten years since Masaki died. We were married for seven, but we spent a grand total of ten together—" he grins here, showing all of his teeth in a teasing, nostalgic sort of way, "—which means that I've spent just as many years without her as I did with her. And this past decade has been both the hardest and greatest time of my life."

Letting the silence simmer around them, Isshin smiles a bit wider, one that's as honest as it is heartbreaking. Although her name is never spoken other than in wild gestures and comical pleas, Kurosaki Masaki is still a force in her old home, a serene presence that keeps her children in line and her husband sane even from the grave. A part of him wonders how Isshin can do it, look his children in the eye, see her reflected back at him and not die a little at the fact that her legacy is mirroring her lost presence.

He can't help but ask. "Do you miss her, your wife?"

Chortling, the bearded takes a sip before giving him a wistful smile. "Every damn day of my life."

"If you knew what you knew now, would you have still married her?" Toushirou grimaces, not liking how he phrased his question. He tries again. "I mean, if you had known that she'd pass on earlier and leave you and your family like this, do you think you'd chase after her again?"

The quiet glance on Isshin's part isn't one of consideration but of confusion, as he looks at Hitsugaya with no small amount of surprise. He doesn't have to say a word because the emotion on his face gives Toushirou more of an answer than any number of sentences could.

No, he'd never think of undoing a single thing he's done to get where he is now. No, he would never consider not marrying Masaki again if the chance to redo it was offered. No, he'd never change one thing about his life, even if he knew what kind of sadness would one day befall him and his children.

No, he would never love any woman as much as he'd ever loved Masaki.

"You know, destiny isn't a pair of handcuffs or a leash," Isshin says easily, leaning onto the table to meet Toushirou's gaze, surprising the younger man with wisdom he hadn't thought he was capable of. "In this case, it just sits there on your finger and points you in the right direction, but it's all about what you do with it in the end that matters. And I know it's hard for young people like you to just go with the flow, always expecting some reasonable answer to unreasonable questions. That's the problem with this generation, too many concrete ideas in their heads and not enough imagination, not enough _faith_.

"And believe me, Toushirou, to believe in things like love and destiny, you have to give yourself up to faith. That, or you may just miss out on the best things life has to offer."

* * *

There are no goodbyes.

Karin finds that Toushirou departs just as he arrives, quiet as the night and twice as stealthy. He doesn't seek her out, probably doesn't know how to. Likewise, she's never been the type to keep tabs on others, not with her soccer practices occupying a number of her mornings and her occasional trips with friends. She's not his keeper nor do they really know each other, and other than that one moment when he sought her out, they haven't held a real conversation.

So he leaves and she tells herself that she's fine with that. The new trimester is bound to begin in a few weeks and she has stacks of summer homework she's left until the last minute. There's no time to wonder what they might've said or mourn the fact that they hadn't parted on good terms.

Instead, Karin locks up any grievances in a small box, placing it inside her heart for permanent storage.

After all, they both know what they're getting into when they agree to keep things the way they are. There's no room for what-if's and no time to weigh the consequences. But in a moment of weakness, she ponders about Hitsugaya back in Tokyo, resuming his second year of college, taking a major she hadn't bothered to ask about and returning to a girl she'll never meet, perhaps someone he will learn to love in spite of their connection.

Somehow the thought sobers Karin up quickly, as she comes to terms with the fact that she's much too busy to solve the puzzle that is Hitsugaya Toushirou. Besides, he's withholding all the important pieces to begin with. So when the first few weeks of school come, Karin is already preparing for a tournament she's completely forgotten about and her duties with the student council are heavy with the new term's start. Her plate is full in front of her while her cards are spread out on the table, as she waits for Fate's counter move and hopes that sheer chance will win her some peace of mind. But Karin discovers that it's hard to fight Lady Luck, especially when she's the one dealing you all the wrong hands.

* * *

When they meet again, two years have already elapsed.

It's completely by accident, but then again nothing's truly by accident for these two and they know it. After graduating a few months ago and settling into her new campus (one that is intentionally far from her older brother's alma mater), she's crossing the street as she makes her way over to her favorite café, classes done and her books safely tucked in her bag.

The hole-in-the-wall is quiet and unpopular, two things that make it fascinating. There are no airs or pretenses and she likes that the owner works the counter more often than not, an older man with light blonde hair but wears old-fashioned Japanese clothing in the westernized setting. Karin also gets the distinct feeling that he likes her, since he grins at her fondly, as if he sees something about her that she herself doesn't even notice. It doesn't bother her though because she always gets her favorite muffin saved and a steaming cup of coffee as soon as she sits.

But who else ends up sitting at her usual table one day but him?

As soon as the door chimes, her left hand rings along with it, going taut as it shortens and shines in the fluorescent lights. And while it's been some time since their last meeting, it stirs something familiar inside her. So when Karin looks up from the solidifying cord, his eyes aren't surprised to see her there, but nor are they particularly glad.

Sensing the tension, she strides over and takes a seat opposite of him, the small table holding only a cup of black coffee. He's dressed in a business suit, most likely for an elite company he's interning at and who will hire him soon after graduation. But right now he still feels like the Toushirou she first stumbled across, the boy who'd walked away from her all those years ago. And she still feels like her seventeen-year-old self, running in circles to avoid him only to find herself trapped. It makes the faux nonchalance that much easier to assume.

"Ah, Karin-chan, you're here," Urahara interrupts with an unassuming smile, placing the hot coffee and her signature muffin before her. Smiling in return, she finds that his presence has soothed a bit of her nerves, as she stirs in two sugars and a cream to soften the drink. The fact that Toushirou's eyes watch her intently only faintly rattles her. "And I see you know Hitsugaya-kun, though I can't imagine a man like him hanging out with a free spirit such as you."

"He's a friend of Ichi-nii's," she laughs, noticing the way that emerald gaze narrows at the other man's implication.

"Is that so?" With his fan hovering over his face, Karin can't quite discern the look on him, though the flash in his eyes tells her that it's something scheming. "But is that all?"

She cocks her head to the side, interested in the question. "What'dya mean?"

"I mean, is that all you two are? Are you not friends? Or perhaps, lovers?" A deliberate pause, as if to gauge her growing discomfort and his quiet irritation. But then Urahara smiles wide, flicking his fan closed with the same finality as his words. "If it were up to me, I'd call you two reluctant soul mates. I mean, just looking at your expressions makes me feel like I've hit the nail right on the head."

And then he turns on his heel and rushes to the back, leaving the couple in stunned silence. The words have left nothing but awkward shuffling and annoyance in his wake, as Karin reaches for her drink while Toushirou grumbles something unintelligible and most likely unkind. Although she thought it impossible before, Karin is sure the air has become even more stifling, making their reunion more or less a farce. A part of her wonders why she's sitting here in the first place, but she knows it's because something called her there to bridge the gap that they've tried so hard to maintain. Even her impulsiveness is working against her, Karin thinks, as she takes a piece of her food and chews reticently.

They continue like that for a while, her going through her snack as Hitsugaya finishes his lukewarm, half-cup of coffee. She expects him to tell her to leave and take a seat someplace where she isn't in his direct line of sight. But he doesn't so she uses this bit of uncaring to take all of him in. As she watches him discretely, his departure is still fresh in her memories and the disappointment he'd left in his wake keeps it company. What she remembers is the news that her brother's friends have returned home and that Ichi-nii will be heading back in a week or so to follow them. And although she remembers both him and their father shooting her concerned looks, she keeps it together, doing her best impression of decisively untouched. It doesn't fool them but they don't say otherwise.

When he's finished with his order, Toushirou still manages to say nothing to her, only leaves his money on the table and walks out the door. And a few minutes later, Karin is still motionless in her seat, her surprise slowly deflating into lamentation, as Kisuke takes the money and returns to the register quietly.

To say she's a little disappointed might just be the greatest understatement of her life, as Karin gets up to leave, her food half-finished and her last bit of coffee cold. This isn't what she expected but the fact that it's happened only strengthens her resolve. They were right to have walked away from each other, and it seems that even the normal civilities that strangers use don't apply to them anymore.

As she goes to pay her tab, the eccentric owner is looking at her oddly when she pulls out her wallet. "How much do I owe you, Urahara-san?"

"Nothing." He blinks at her, face carefully blank. "Your bill has been taken care of."

Frowning, she narrows her glare at her. "What're you talking about?"

"Your bill has been paid. By Hitsugaya-kun."

And just as quickly, Karin is dragged under again, the throbbing in her chest similar to what she thinks drowning would be like. She also finds that it'd be so much easier to forget him if only he gave off the right signals instead of these mismatched ones, the ones where she believes he almost likes her. But that idea is hazardous, ludicrous even, and she's not interested in convoluted, complex stuff like this.

She wants normalcy, not epic romance or great adventure, just a good guy who will honestly care about her and treat her right. But against her wishes, Karin acknowledges that, past the deep pits of her defiance, Toushirou could be that guy, if he wanted to be. However, happiness is hard to achieve while denial sits so firmly in between them.

* * *

Toushirou learns that five years is a long time to wait, to think.

Luckily time has given him some perspective, a bit of maturity that he hadn't realized he needed. However, time is also a double-edged sword, granting him reprieve but slitting his skin even with the most careful of swings. By now he's become embittered by its creepingly slow hands, refusing to fast-forward to the ending he so desperately wishes to see. And while he's developed a certain acceptance of his situation, Toushirou can't let faith dictate his course like Isshin advised, not after so many years of learned skepticism. Because, unlike Karin, he's been harboring his secret long before they ever met.

If he remembers right, he's probably her age, seventeen and a junior in high school, when it first appears. And he's sure he handles it the same way she does, perplexed and dubious but overall uncaring. Since the red filament doesn't impede his movement or capture anyone's unnecessary attention, Hitsugaya learns to live with it, finds some comfort in its consistency as he comes across its true purpose.

The first few months with its existence are easy enough since he can act as if he doesn't feel its occasional tug or see its lazy curling along the hallways of his home or school. In fact, it's eerily non-life-changing, as he glances down at it during class and finds it less than miraculous. He should've known then that it was too simple, that he needed to put his guard up before it was too late. Maybe then he would've been prepared for the change when it finally hits him.

And it does, unexpectedly sluggish but all-encompassing, as Toushirou finds his eyes following after every girl that passes by him. It's an unconscious act, a reflex that he can't fight, as he stares down at every pair of hands in school, curious if they hold his other end. Eventually the habit carries itself into his every day life, dark green eyes going to every pair of female hands that catch his attention. He even has to apologize for staring on occasion, and it's during those instances that he chastises himself for the uncharacteristic behavior, for giving into such a childish weakness.

The pattern lasts for more than two years, past his high school graduation and into his admission to university. Naively he thought that maybe he'd find his mystery woman once he moved and got settled into his new life in the city. Tokyo is the most populated metropolis in Japan, after all. If he's going to meet her, then this is where it'll be, Toushirou tells himself, trying not to get his hopes up. But he does, only to find them dashed soon after, when he comes to terms with the fact that she's not here either.

His already untrusting heart hardens with that understanding, so much so that he decides that she's not worth it, that no woman could be worth this sense of inadequacy. So he closes himself up in a shell and watches others find and fall in love, all the while deciding that it's not for him. He's been fed enough lies by then, has been led by the nose by Fate with nothing but shattered expectations at his feet. Terrifyingly there's no remorse in him when he makes his choice, just a dull ache of acceptance.

That's why, Toushirou muses with a grim look, he gets a girlfriend at the end of his freshmen year after waiting fruitlessly for nothing. Contemplation has allowed him to propose that maybe destiny isn't what it's made out to be. So he accepts a confession from an upperclassman who's pretty and popular, someone who doesn't make him think about their future and he finds that he breathes a little easier because of it. Because while she may be sought-after and kind, she doesn't draw his attention like magnetism nor does she challenge his views with a few well-put words and a decisive smirk. She's much too gentle for that.

Every boy on campus tells him she's the perfect partner, the ideal Japanese housewife who will raise her children with good morals and greet her husband with dinner and a kiss. Her personality is well-balanced, sweet but not naïve, perhaps a bit too curious but naturally intelligent. She's perfect is what everyone around him says, patting him on the back and praising him with envy.

Hitsugaya takes the compliments half-heartedly, agreeing with a smile but little else. He's chosen well for himself; she's someone even his grandmother will like. And he'll never have to worry about losing her because she's loyal, the type who loves with her entire being. But he knows that his problems haven't disappeared at all, as his eyes drift to her bare hands, swinging as she walks beside him one late afternoon. This woman isn't his to have, nor will he be satisfied by being with her.

It sours his disposition to the point that he breaks up with her four months after they get together, just days shy of summer break. And when she asks him that one simple question—_why?_—Hitsugaya finds that the words get tangled in his throat. Because he knows his answer will never be enough, will never make sense to anyone who isn't like him and can see their own strand of fate.

Instead Toushirou promises her she'll find a better man, someone meant solely for her, because he can't feed her some poor excuse just to save face. When he turns his back on her crying face, his regret burns him almost as much as his anger, as he prays to no one that he'll finally meet his so-called destined lover, if only so he can stop chasing after her. Though, he's not sure if it'll be a joyful or murderous feeling that'll fill him when he does.

Anticlimactically, Toushirou finds out a few days later that it's neither. All of it unravels when he gets a glimpse of his red string going taut, as if pulling him into his friend's childhood home, and he already knows what's coming. But as he readies himself for rolling anger and indignation, the second he steps into the living room he discovers the one thing he never thought he'd find. That just being near her brings him that elusive peace he's been hurting for, as if drinking water for the first time after wandering across a desert. It's so shockingly different and unexpected that he panics, and that is where his biggest mistake lies.

Toushirou finds that he trusts Kurosaki Karin even less than he trusts himself, something he hadn't even thought was possible. But he reluctantly admits that she's the kind of girl who might've been worth his wasted time, if only they'd met sooner. As he eyes her from where he stands, his gaze takes in how her posture is cement stiff and how her face avoids revealing any emotion to prevent him from reading her. But while her eyes skirt to the thin binding between them, he keeps his settled on her in a way he's sure would unnerve even the most stalwart people.

So when she meets his eyes with contrasting confidence, he's more than a little impressed. She's small in size, almost delicately so if he's critical, but she's made of sturdier stuff than most of his male friends combined. But she would be, being a Kurosaki, and he's never met anyone half as strong as Ichigo. He has no doubts Karin is exactly the same in that sense. And it's only barely that he manages to face her with hard glares and straight disinterest because he knows that Karin's nothing at all like his ideal girl. She's much more than he ever bargained for.

But with his self-preservation covering bandaged wounds, Toushirou's first instinct is to push her away, tell her that he has a girlfriend when he doesn't and expect her to shrink back like most others would. But funnily enough, he's not surprised that she holds her ground with ease, serving up a few sarcastic comments to burst any half-constructed perceptions he might've had of her. He hates how the gods know him well, know that while she may not have been the kind of woman he wanted, she's someone he could grow to need.

So, in order to defend his threatened equilibrium, Hitsugaya tells himself that she's not ready, that she's too young and inexperienced and, for God's sake, a _child_ who has no business falling in love with someone as broken as him. But he knows he's protecting himself just as much, maybe even more so. Because he knows he could come to love her with everything he had and he wasn't ready for that, not now, not yet. He walks away and doesn't look back, even as his right hand pulls at him painfully to turn around.

That's why, when they meet two years later, it's not anger that surfaces in him. It's _guilt_.

The feeling had anchored itself in his chest when he left Karakura Town without a backward glance, festering until it nearly consumed him, sitting within him in hibernation. It bides its time until it's let out, with Karin's reappearance acting as the key to its prison. Even after his first rejection, she has so much courage, perhaps too much of it, as she sits before him with nothing else but a determined look on her face.

He doesn't tell her that it takes all he has not to walk away when she first steps in. But that's the coward's way out and he certainly doesn't count himself among them, though this time he thinks he may have to make an exception. Despite all the regret that holes itself in his heart—for leaving, for not saying goodbye, for not turning back, for not chasing after her—he finds all of the words in his arsenal are inadequate. Eventually, all Hitsugaya can do is bolt again, mortified at his idiocy, and hope that one day she'll forgive him.

But it's too late now; their time has run out.

* * *

Today is the day when destiny withdraws from the battle.

Karin would like to say she's prepared for it, but that's such an obvious lie. It's just the same as before; nothing's really changed around her, her body is in one piece and all of her memories are intact. After all, it's because of these constants that she notices the missing piece so quickly, her eyes going to it after her left hand rubs the sleep from her eyes.

More than two years of companionship ends with the thread absent from her grip. Without thought, her eyes scan the room, going to the ground as if she might've dropped it. But even while she gets up to scour her small bedroom, Karin is chastising herself because what she's looking for is absurd. Otherworldly items don't take refuge in one's drawers or on shelves. And, in the end, there's no sign that her friend had ever existed, as she lays back on her covers and takes it all in for a moment.

_My pinky feels so naked_, is what first comes to mind, as she lifts the now bare finger to examine it. A part of her hopes to find a mark there, an indent that comes with having one's skin occluded for a long period of time, but there is none. And while she finds its physical absence disturbing, it's the implications that have her mind reeling.

Her non-relationship with Toushirou is—was?—not what one would call a love blessed by God, not even close. And sure, there were times where she swore that she'd never give into him, not without him crawling back on his knees and begging for forgiveness. But while her imagination is nothing if not remarkable, Karin knows she far easier to please than that. In fact, it's all talk because if he'd merely show that he was open to accepting her and their connection, she thinks that maybe they could work. At the very least, they might become friends.

But now it seems she has no reason to worry about fixing her broken ties with Hitsugaya. The disappearance should give her peace of mind, returning to her the love and life she hadn't been able to live out properly. Now she doesn't have to explain to her friends why she can't go on blind dates; she can go without remorse. And if a boy asks her for her number, she doesn't have to think about it and wonder if she should say yes. This is a good thing, she tries to convince herself, as she finishes brushing her teeth and changing into her clothes. A little bit of her youth has been given back and it's time to make up for its absence.

However, the words sound much better in her head than how they play out in real life. When she goes to class, she feels like she's pretending when she says it's okay if she attends a group date with her friends that weekend. Their glee and awe is both unsettling and entertaining, as she gives them a grin. As they talk excitedly about what they'll do, Karin can only take out her notes and books, her hands coming together to rest on the fresh page in front of her. She doesn't notice how she fingers her left hand, unconsciously hoping that her crimson fiber was still there, looped around her pinky. When she catches the notion, she stops and tells herself how foolish she's being.

The rest of her day goes on in a haze, her body going through the motions but not comprehending a thing, before she smiles politely to her friends and she excuses herself in the late afternoon. Right now, Karin's not fit for company nor does she want any followers, as she makes her way to the small café a good distance from her university. But even as she treads swiftly, Karin is berating herself, keeping her hands at her sides in an effort to stop from hitting herself. When she arrives, she's right to expect to see it empty, the usual amount of patrons few and other customers fleeting, especially during non-peak hours.

As she settles on a few cakes, Karin knows that the sweets won't sustain her appetite but she doesn't care. Right now, even a seven-course meal would taste like sawdust to her palette, as she takes small bites and waits for the impossible. She hates that she can't help but hope that he'll come through the door, even though he'd told her that they were meant to be nothing to each other. The reality is only reinforced by the fact that he can't track her like he used to, nor was he particularly moved during their last meeting. If anyone should be happy about this happening, it's Toushirou; his wishes have been nothing if not the same for the entire time they've known each other.

The thought makes her lose any semblance of hunger, as she pushes out her seat with irritation. Of course he's happy. He never liked her anyway, Karin thinks with a grimace, as she rummages through her bag angrily. Because she doesn't want to acknowledge that the only reason she's here is because this is where her last memory with him is. They don't have many, though she's not sure if it's because of their age difference or imposed distance. All she knows is that it's a shame they never had the chance to see how far they could go, that maybe they're more than what preordained legends have made them out to be. In the end, it doesn't really matter either way.

"I guess it's time to end this," Karin whispers, hoping her head will convince her heart that this is the right thing to do. She won't wait for a man who's refused her repeatedly and Toushirou won't accept a girl who was picked for him out of the air. A part of her understands that, would probably do the same thing if she was more closed off to the idea of love that transcends reality. But Karin is both a true optimist and romantic. She's seen two couples that embody what any love should be, with one that led to her birth and another that was only beginning to unfold. After all, there's no better proof than seeing the impossible become possible with one's own eyes.

Maybe that explains the chiming of the door, a customer's careful footfalls filling up the silent air.

It's only during moments like these that Karin can admit that they're two pieces that an inextricably woven, as she lets her eyes stay on the marble of the table while she takes a calming breath. This time it's the same feeling but instead of constricting around her finger, it's her chest that tightens, as she straightens her back and lifts her head. While he approaches with deliberate steps, Toushirou stares back at her with softened eyes, as if he has a million things to say but no right way to let them out. Karin can't imagine what those thoughts might be.

Looking him over, she frowns when she notices that the way he looks makes it seem as if he was in a rush to get here, shirt wrinkled and the first two buttons of his shirt askew as if he'd gotten fed up with them. His hair's messier than usual and his skin has a wet sheen that's definitely not due to the cool weather outside. And the usually even measure of his respiration is faster, muscles and limbs tighter, as if he's darted around a track for hours without fail. Just by looking at him, her conclusion is drawn, putting a tiny smile on her face as she settles into her seat and pushes herself back in.

"So, long run?" She can't help it. He's an easy target.

"It wouldn't have been if you'd told me where your school was," he grumbles back, frowning embarrassedly and running a hand through his hair. It only makes it worse but that's okay. Karin finds it strangely endearing.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was supposed to communicate that telepathically the last time we met," she replies, sarcasm dripping as she takes a sip of her cold drink.

Glaring, he rests his right hand on the table as he rubs at his face with the other, exasperated. "You really can't just forgive and forget, can you?"

"Oh, I've forgiven you. A long time ago, actually," she says easily, propping her head on her right hand with a tilt, obvious delight in her expression. "However, forgetting is what old people do. Why would I do that when you're so obviously at fault?"

"I hate you." But even as he says it, Toushirou's lips quirk upwards. She thinks that this might be the first grin he's ever given her. She likes it.

With her hand lying across the white tabletop, she's not surprised when Toushirou reaches for it. His movement is tentative and his fingertips careful despite the strength in them. Softly feeling out for her smallest digit, Karin knows she's turning red at the gesture, intimate in a way that others wouldn't be able to comprehend. Both of them understand that they're still stumbling and tumbling down the same road, unsure of what obstacles lie ahead, just like before. The only difference is that they know where they're going this time around.

Grinning, Toushirou thinks that Isshin-san is right, as he twines his fingers with Karin's, keeping her steadily within his grasp. Blind faith may be fool's gold, but it might just lead him to real treasure, so long as he can tie her down. But red strings are terribly out of fashion, so instead he'll put a ring on every one of Karin's fingers, just as the powers above desired. They've fallen into the palm of someone else's hand and he finds that maybe it's not such a bad system to run with.

_Well played, Fate. Well played._

**THE END**

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**AN**: That's all, folks~

I want to comment on all the new changes on . It looks super different and while I like it at the same time I don't. Maybe because it's just too new to me. I'll probably change my opinion in a few weeks though once I get used to it. :)

Now, for the bad news. I have officially started school which means updates will be... sporadic, at best. I want to focus on my studies and I have so much to do within the next month alone that I'm kind of scrambling to figure out just what the hell's going on in my life. The adjustment is kind of the hardest part, after all.

However, neither of my other two multi-chapters will go unfinished. I'm just going to write when I can and as often as I can. There's no guarantee that I'll be able to do anything major until my next break in October, so please understand. And if you're one of those pushy people, do me a favor and back off. I got one review like that for another fic and it pissed me off. I'm kind of an asshole by nature, so don't ruin my fun here by being a prissy bitch. Thank you and good day.

As for all my wonderful readers and reviews, thank you so much again for your support. I don't know when I'll see you next but hopefully soon enough. Please leave a review if you enjoyed or give me a little of your perspective or some criticism. I always look forward to constructive remarks. :D

Until next time!


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